


Lost In You

by TigerMoon



Category: RWBY
Genre: Established Relationship, Fireplaces, Fluff and Smut, Happy Sex, M/M, Oral Sex, Seriously That's It, This is just straight-up porn, Yule
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-23
Updated: 2017-12-23
Packaged: 2019-02-19 06:33:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13118070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigerMoon/pseuds/TigerMoon
Summary: For Ozpin is the god he has sworn his life to, and in moments like these he knows, he knows – he never wants to be found.





	Lost In You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Qrowcane (timaeustestifiedsilence)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/timaeustestifiedsilence/gifts).



It’s wintertime in Vale, snowy and cold; Beacon Academy is quiet under the dark blanket of stars spread out over the heavens, and even the moon is subdued, hidden by clouds so that only glittering fragments peek out. The trees sway a bit in the light breeze, snow curling in wisps in the air. The streetlights are dim, the lights about campus mostly off; the midnight hour has struck.

 

The world is silent, so very silent – a quiet witness to the cycle, life and death and life anew.

 

Within the highest reaches of Beacon tower, there’s a cozy circular room; Ozpin’s humble abode, hidden below the creaking gears of his office. It’s a small, sacred space, never shown to others, and yet Qrow stands there in the center of the room now as the fireplace crackles to life with greedy warm flame. He knows the rooms by heart, can navigate them blindfolded, yet as Ozpin comes to him and cups his face within his slender hands, only one thought crosses his mind.

 

_I’m so lost._

 

Lost in amber eyes, twinkling with warmth; lost within the familiar trace of a thumb across chapped lips and a hand sliding about his waist; so eagerly lost within the touch of lips, of the taste of coffee and sweet, of the nip of teeth and tongue that steals his breath away.

 

It’s not often that Ozpin takes the lead like this, but it’s always welcome when he does. Qrow chuckles into the kiss, drawing back and nuzzling against Ozpin’s jaw. The tickle of his scruff drags a soft laugh from him. “Silly old bird,”he sighs.

 

“’m not old,” Qrow protests, but it’s hard to get indignant. Especially when Ozpin’s steadily unbuttoning his shirt, the backs of his knuckles skimming over the taut muscles of his stomach. “Not even gonna wait for the bedroom, huh?”

 

“I rather thought,” he replies, brown eyes mischievous and soft as they stare into his, “that since we have the fireplace… well.” Ozpin’s fingers stroke across his skin, down past his navel and then back up, across his belly and up across the dusting of hair that spread low across his chest in a V. “It would be a pity to not take advantage of it, don’t you think?”

 

Qrow laughs and seizes him by the hips. “Naughty boy,” he says, and drags him in for another rough kiss.

 

There’s no real rush. Even though they’ve mapped each others’ bodies before, they take their time, slow and steady, Ozpin pulling off Qrow’s shirt and peppering his broad shoulders with kisses. Qrow growls and Ozpin smirks and bites his shoulder, hard enough to leave a bruise, and oh. _Oh_ , and he’s gasping when that mouth drags down over a nipple and licks, rolls it between his teeth and sucks at the pebbled flesh, soft whispers- _oh_ , _oh_ , _oh_.

 

But then Ozpin’s undoing his slacks, and that’s not fair – that he’s growing bare and Oz hasn’t shed a thing – so as soon as he steps out of his slacks he grabs hold of the other’s turtleneck and rips it off. Or tries to. Ozpin’s stuck for a moment - “Told ya thinkin’ too much would give you a swelled head” - and then he’s free and they’re both laughing, kissing, Oz’s glasses having been lost along with the shirt.

 

But still, Ozpin’s hands are all over him, sliding across sensitive skin, down lower to slip under the waistband of his boxers and dig his fingernails into his ass. “Fuck,” Qrow groans, and scrabbles to undo Ozpin’s belt and slacks.

 

“If you like,” he whispers in reply, and licks the shell of Qrow’s ear.

 

Gods, this man will be the death of him, and when that time comes he will embrace it with open arms.

 

The damnable pants drop, and Ozpin kicks them aside – his boxer briefs too – and he’s just as hard and aching as Qrow. Qrow lets a hand slide down through the trail of wiry silver-white hair down, stopping just before he touches sensitive flesh. “Somebody’s happy to see me,” he smirks.

 

Long fingers cup him from the front, through silk fabric. “I could say the same,” Ozpin replies with an arched brow. He strokes, once, tip to base and lower and oh _gods_ the whine that escapes Qrow is obscene. His knees wobble again; Hands grab him and guide him backwards, to splay out across the woolly sheepskin rug in front of the fire.

 

Ozpin towers over him for a moment, firelight dancing across his lean body and painting him in the fiery hues of some long-obscure god, before he too kneels down. His eyes warm to a molten copper, touched with amusement and some emotion Qrow cannot dare to name as he hovers over him, and Qrow is lost within him. Lost within Ozpin - he always has been, and always will be, for Ozpin is the god he has sworn his life to, and in moments like these he knows, he _knows_ – he never wants to be found.

 

Ozpin stretches across him and traces the angles of his throat with his lips, a warmth and weight so welcome in the yuletide darkness. The heat of him presses against Qrow’s thigh; he shifts and rubs against him until Ozpin’s breath stutters, gasps. “C’mon, Oz,” he slurs, raking his fingernails down Ozpin’s chest. Calloused fingers find pebbled flesh, pinch and tease sensitive flesh, and while Ozpin has never been given over to loudness he can’t bite back a gasp, silvery eyelashes fluttering.

 

“So impatient,” he drawls, so unlike the staid professor he usually is, but he sits back up on his knees and hooks his fingers into Qrow’s boxers, lips and tongue lavishing attention over every bit of skin exposed as he pulls them down. Until the fabric is gone and Ozpin’s there, parting his thighs just enough to – _oh_. Oh, his eyes sparkle and he licks his lips before dragging his tongue over his exposed cock, from base to head and his tongue flicks up and _oh._

 

_Oh_ , and Ozpin parts his lips. _Oh gods_ , and slowly he takes him in, hollowed cheeks and gentle suction. _Oz_ _please please_ _,_ and that tongue curls around his cock, hands curling in white hair and pulling hard as that mouth suckles and laps at him, _oh_ _hh_ _oh gods Oz please_ , with the flicker of his tongue, _oh_ _hhh_ , until his thighs tremble and belly tightens and –

 

_Oz-_

 

The world shatters, galaxies imploding behind his eyes, Qrow’s world nothing but that – Ozpin’s hands on his skin and his mouth on his cock, _oh_ , swallowing around him. Again, and again, lost in the shattering of stars and self until the pleasure fades and a soft voice and softer caresses bring him back.

“Fuck,” he manages when he can breathe again.

 

He’s curled into Ozpin’s chest, his arms around him, the warmth of the firelight bathing them in its glow. Ozpin’s still staring down at him, amusement on his lips and something tender behind his eyes. Slim fingers come up and brush against Qrow’s cheek. He turns and kisses the palm of his hand; Oz’s breath catches at the small, loving gesture.

 

“You’re alright?” Ozpin asks after a moment, brushing his lover’s sweat-soaked hair back from his face.

 

Qrow smiles, blinding and true. “I’m fine,” he says, and pulls Ozpin atop him. “Just a little lost in you.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays~


End file.
